


"How many of them do you own?!”

by ricky_goldsworth



Series: Misinterpretations [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 09:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15385488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricky_goldsworth/pseuds/ricky_goldsworth
Summary: A drabble written for an ask game on tumblr based onthis post. Feel free to send me more prompts to wildly misinterpret!





	"How many of them do you own?!”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shareyoursunshines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shareyoursunshines/gifts).



> If you got here by googling yourself, hit the back button now! If you got here some other way, I have a tumblr at [ricky-goldsworth](https://ricky-goldsworth.tumblr.com/post/176006588634/prompt-for-you-to-wildly-misinterpret-how-many).

Ryan wakes to the light spilling in through the blinds and across his face, sits up with a groan and runs a quelling hand through the mess that is his hair: he’d fallen asleep with the product still in it, sleep overtaking him unplanned and un-asked for in the afterglow.

Speaking of which.

Shane’s lying on his front, the smooth planes of his exposed skin pale in the morning light. He’s still out to the world. Ryan can’t help the soft smile he catches himself with, watching him. He’s never the one to wake up first when they’re on location, so this is one more new experience.

His phone is on the floor, half under the bed where it must have fallen in the night. He reaches down to check the time, and frowns when the screen stays dark.

“Hey, Shane,” he says, sitting up to nudge at him, “My phone’s dead.”

“Mmph?” Shane mumbles, his eyes cracking open a little. “Oh. Hi, Ryan.”

Ryan feels his face warm. “Hi,” he says, laughing a little when Shane reaches out and wraps his noodle arms around Ryan’s waist. “Sleep okay?”

Shane’s slow, contented smile spreads like honey across his face. He nods, wordless, nuzzling his face into Ryan’s thigh.

“Hey,” Ryan says, “C'mon, wake up. I think I missed my alarm.”

Shane lifts one arm as though it weighs a hundred pounds, points behind him at the bedside table. “Charger’s in there,” he says. He doesn’t release Ryan.

“I’ve gotta move, big guy.”

“Nah.”

“We’re gonna be late to work.”

“Think we’re coming down with something,” Shane says, “Gotta quarantine ourselves.”

“You can’t do this to me, man,” Ryan whines, reaching over him for the drawer handle, “I can’t say no to you like this.”

Shane smiles, that tiny, mischievous u shape smile that means he knows he’s getting away with something, wraps himself a little tighter around Ryan and succeeds in pulling him down half on top of him. “Good,” he says.

Ryan gets the tips of his fingers around the handle and inches the drawer open. Inside, there’s a tangled mass of cables, spilling out like so many loaded springs. He collapses laughing, his forehead resting on Shane’s bare chest.

Shane’s eyes crinkle around a grin. “What?”

Ryan pokes him in the cheek, digging into the drawer with his other hand and pulling out a handful of cords. “Are you serious?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you where to find them.”

“That’s - I don’t - how many of them do you own?!”


End file.
